


We're Too Old

by EvilAtrocities



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Stancest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 7,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5867503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilAtrocities/pseuds/EvilAtrocities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After thirty years of separation through the portal and all the troubles they dealt with while younger, Stanley and Ford .. probably still aren't ready for a real relationship.<br/>Stancest, please don't leave any hate.<br/>I plan on making this into a bunch of chapters, no idea how many.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Long Has it Been?

  His hands shake as the portal opens. He'd thought he'd recognized the ungodly sound of it whirling up. And now staring at the huge hole in the middle of this world, Stanford knows it's the portal he's made. And he knows who's the one behind opening it. And the more he thinks about how selfish his brother is, the more pissed off he becomes. But God, he misses home. Unaware of how many changes there could have been in thirty years. But he's desperate to at least spend what time he has left, on Earth, and not in this dimension. He steps through, and he feels the world shift around him, the differences subtle, but still there. An older man sits on the floor, staring up from a few feet away, his fez a little crumpled.  
  _Stanley._

  Ford notices one of his books on the floor. He trudges over and scoops it up, sitting it in his coat pocket before his eyes fall back to the man who was now on his knees, grinning up at him with that dumbass look on his face. Ford feels his anger flare once more.  
  _Goddamn it, Stanley._

He blocks out the rest of his twin's words, only making out, "Brother!" before arms try to wrap around him in a hug. He's having none of it. Six knuckles slam hard against Stanley's face, knocking his brother back a few steps.

  "Ow, what the- that's how you thank your brother for saving you?!" Stan hisses through his teeth, rubbing the side of his face in disbelief.  
  "You idiot! You knew the portal was dangerous, you could've broken the planet in _HALF!"_ He watches Stan roll his eyes and grits his own teeth in rage. "Stanley, I can't believe you, putting the world in danger just to see me again! _Are you out of your goddamn mind!?"_

Ford watches as his brother's own face crumples in anger and he wheels towards him, but Ford easily grabs the other and twists his arms behind his back, slamming him to the floor. Honestly, he wishes his brother would've put up a little more of a fight. He glances at his brother from where his boot is on the base of his neck. He definitely put the weight back on again, or maybe he hadn't lost any of it in the first place.

  He hears soft coughing and glances up at the sight of two children in front of him, battered and bruised, the boy helps his sister up and starts to dust dirt from her sweater.

  Ford automatically retracts himself from Stan. "Stanley, you didn't tell me there were kids down here.."

  "Well maybe if you would've greeted me a little nicer-"

  Ford cuts his brother off, approaching the girl and sinking down to her height. "Greetings.. do people still say greetings?? Who are you two?"

  "They're Shermy's grandkids." Stan answers, dusting his own suit off as he stands once more. Stan gestures to the girl. "Mabel." He then gestures to the boy, rolling his eyes when he saw the wide grin on the child's face. "Dipper."  
  
  "Oh my god, he's really here! T-the author of the journals..!"  
  
  "You've read my journals- wait a minute, wait a minute. Before I get sidetracked again.." He sighs through his nose, glaring back at Stan. "I have a lot to talk to you about."

  He watches the smile grow on Stan's face, and he feels his heart leap to his throat and his stomach do a flip flop. _Damn it Stanley._

"Kids, head to the attic."

  "But-" Dipper starts to say, but the stern look in his grunkle's eyes convince him to get a move on, Mabel practically dragging her brother from the room.

  The door shuts behind them and once again Stan goes to wrap his arms around his brother, surprised when a six-fingered hand pushes his face away.

  "You're even more stupid than I thought you were, if you think that any of _that_ can happen again."


	2. You're An Idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old men bicker, and Stan gets shot down a lot.

  "What were you thinking??" He pulls out the journal he'd scooped up earlier, scribbling in it furiously, repetitively writing Stanley's name with a bunch of angry faces beside it. Thank goodness it's in invisible ink or Stan would be making fun of him right now.

  "What was I _thinking??_ I was thinking about my brother..! I was thinking about you..! Do you - do you even have any idea how hard it was to get that machine up and running again??"

  _Lord,_ the whine in Stan's voice makes Ford angrier instead of honestly taking his brother's words to heart. "You wasted so much of my time! You've screwed up so many things for me, what do you wanna screw up now?? _However many years I have left?"_

"Ford, it's not like that-" Stan tries to assure him, waving his hands dismissively.

  "Then _please_ , tell me what it's like." The man hisses, glancing up from the book once more and glaring at his brother. He's surprised to see brown eyes full of hurt, but it's not enough for him to set aside his rage. So what if Stan was hurt?? After all he'd put him through, Stan deserved a little emotional pain himself..!

  "..I missed you. I spent.. I spent so long trying to fix it. Look, I know you still blame me for a lot of things that went down, I know I screwed up here or there, but you've got to believe me when I say that I.. Ford, I really lo-"

  A six fingered hand clamps over his mouth, the pen now forgotten on the dirt floor. "Don't you dare." He whispered, surprised by the pain in his own voice. "Don't you dare say it.. you don't have the right to say it."

  He expects Stanley to bite back on his hand, punch him, shove his arm away, do anything but.. ..start crying.

  He watches the tears well in his twin's eyes and pulls his hand back. He feels his heart ache. _No, c'mon Stan.. yell at me.. say something you asshole.. Don't just.. stand there and.._

  A hand reaches up. Ford silently begs for it to hit him, only to watch it comb through grayed locks. He listens to his brother's heavy breathing, watches the tears fall down his cheeks. "..Sorry. For thinking.. I mean.." he stumbles over the words and sinks down a little, putting his arms around his head as he cries. 

  "I just.. I just thought.. maybe.. you wouldn't of h..held a grudge against me this time.. I just.. I thought.." he stutters. Ford hears the journal hit the floor, he doesn't even feel it slip from his fingers.

  "..Stanley." He tries. A hand reaches forward to comfort his brother, and for the first time, his twin smacks his hand away. Ford stares at him, unable to even be shocked. Just.. feeling concern and heartache flow through him. He watches as Stan scrambles from the room and Ford glances down at his journal and his pen. Useless items that could never love him like his brother had. He scoops the objects up and turns the page.

  _..Damn it, Stanley._


	3. I Didn't Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford tries to apologize to Stan about being so hurtful when telling him they can't be together anymore.

  Ford watches his brother's shaky fingers. His normal, calloused hands, grip the coffee mug almost desperately. It was two a.m. now. Ford couldn't focus. And Stan wouldn't look him in the eyes. He knew he needed to get rest soon, but all he kept thinking about was earlier. His brother's tears in the basement.. Ford hadn't meant to hurt him that badly. It was true, Stan messed up almost every piece of his life. But it was all.. accidental in a sense. And Stan loved him. Deeply. To hear someone that you love.. that you'd been hoping to come back for so long, to hear their rage instead of their comfort.. it was..

  The clock chimed in the other room, startling Ford out of his gaze, his pen hanging freely from his mouth. Stan remained still however. He was used to the noise. 

  "..Stanley." He said slowly, just barely above a whisper. His twin glances up, and then down at his coffee mug once more. He knows that means continue, that he was listening.

  "..I didn't mean to come off as.. I mean.. I should've tried to be more understanding. I know you never meant for this to happen.. but honestly it.. it's kind of late. To fix things I mean. I just don't think we can." Ford shook his head softly, sadly. His fingers clasped around his own coffee cup, sipping from it. He was waiting to hear more tears. Or perhaps, Stanley's smartass comments.

  He hears the sound of Stan's slippers across the kitchen floor, and he feels himself flinch when he feels his brother's lips against his ear.

  "..You're an asshole, you know that..?? We've got all the time in the world.."

  A hand tilts Ford's head up, and he can't help but allow it to guide him. Lips brush his softly, and Ford takes it in, relishes in it.

  ..That is until he realizes that he _can't_ be doing this, that he doesn't _need_ his brother in his life, and that his lips are lukewarm. He shoves Stan off, drinking more of his coffee despite the fact it's scalding hot.

  "You're disgusting," he mumbles under his breath, standing and grabbing his journal and pen. "I'll be in my room."

  "Do you expect us to share?"

  "No, I expect you to sleep on the couch." Ford answers, and before Stan can retort, he hears the kitchen door slam.


	4. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford dreams about old memories.

  Tiny fingers grasp the handle of the blade shakily. He can't take it. He can't take the bullying anymore. No matter how much Stanley stands up for him, he just _can't_ do it. He can't deal with knowing he's a freak, ten-year-old Ford just can't. The knife digs into the flesh, but it's too dull to do any damage automatically. If he just cut them off.. nobody would stare at him like that anymore. Suddenly, his younger brother's voice chimes out. "Ford, what are you doing?!"   
  He's been caught. He's been caught by the person who loves him the most, and he finds himself shaking. "I-.. ..I.." he tries, but nothing escapes his mouth. Stan rushes over and gently peels the blade back and tosses it in the sink nearby. Ford expects a lecture. Or for his brother to gently start punching him. But instead Stan wraps his arms tightly around him. "Ford, please.. you're perfect the way you are.. you don't need to listen to anybody else to know that.." 

  

  Ford's eyes flicker open, the blanket shoved off of his side and hanging around his legs. He ran a hand through his grayed locks for a moment, feeling at ease for the first time in a while. "..Stanley." He sighs, glancing at his hands. Six fingers - all still there. Because of Stanley. He reams at his eyes, adjusting his glasses as he sits up. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good dream.. Stan was always good at protecting him. Comforting him. Even from himself.  
  He hears soft shouting from outside and glances up. Stan's barking at some man who's moving boxes inside, clearly telling him to hurry up. Ford presses his arms against the window ledge and stares softly at his brother. In the suit his gut isn't noticeable, but honestly his weight adds more character to his body. His fez was suiting atop his head, but Ford loved the gray hair underneath. The slight stubble on his chin was nice.. ..Ford couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him naked. Maybe eighteen? Ford realizes he's daydreaming over his twin and hisses through his teeth, cheeks burning with a soft blush.

  "No, no, no, _NO."_ He hums, moving away from the window and standing, adjusting his clothes. "I can't.. he's done too many things wrong, broken my trust too much.. I.. I could never forgive him, let alone have him _touch_ me again." He sighed through his nose, letting his mind wander. His memory was too good.. especially when it came to Stanley. Stan's hands had always brushed his sides so tenderly, and then lips, met the flesh of his neck, and brushed softly, before nibbling. Soon enough his neck would be coated in red marks, which would later turn to love bites. And then Stan would..  
  Ford groaned ever so softly, embarrassed that his own hands were on his sides.

  There was no way he could recreate that feeling, and honestly he was disgusting for trying.

  He hears Mabel and Dipper a few rooms away, mumbling loudly to each other about the rest of their summer. He lowers his hands from his sides and shakes his head a few times. He needed to kick Stanley out.. and then he'd be able to get over this. Get over him. Get over this bad past.


	5. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this one up. Writer's block and life happened.

  Ford enters the kitchen and blinks up as he recognizes a stack of pancakes on a plate nearby, with a silly paper saying, _"For Ford"_ on the side. _God,_ he _wants_ to be pissed, but he can't. Stan made the  best pancakes.. it was honestly the only food that he could make perfectly, and because of this, Ford would usually eat pancakes every morning from age fifteen to eighteen. The smell was sickeningly sweet and enticing. The last time he'd had human food, way too long ago. And he finds himself further pissed off and self-loathing as he sits down and picks up the fork and starts eating.   
  Over halfway done with his meal he hears the children enter the kitchen, barely catches Dipper speaking. "Oh, you're up, Grunkle Ford. Grunkle Stan wanted to talk to you." The man swallows dryly and sighs through his nose unhappily.

  _Stan wants to talk to you. Oh boy. I'm gonna fucking kick him out._

  Ford dusts himself off and tosses the paper plate and what pancake was left on it, into the trash can nearby. "Where is he?" He hears himself ask. "Outside," Mabel murmurs, grabbing the box of cereal from the shelf nearby. Both the twins flinch as they hear the screen door slam. "..Do you think they're gonna start getting along soon?" She squeaks out, glancing at her brother. The boy shrugs lightly. "Who knows."

  There he is, Stanley, leaning against the porch, slurping a Pitt Cola. All he wants to do is knock it out of his hand, punch him in the face again. But then, he looks back at him, and _smiles_.

  Ford hears himself swallow, trying to ignore the color slowly staining his own cheeks. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

  "Last night."

  An eye roll behind cracked glasses. "What _about_ last night?"

  "I should've asked to kiss you. Like I used to."

  Six-fingered hands clutch the fabric of his red sweater, wringing the material slightly. He remembered those days. They were ** _sweet._ ** Full of **_love. Gentleness._**

  "Ford??" 

  "You have a lot of fucking nerve, Stan, you don't understand, this isn't going to work, there's no way you can-" he flinches as Stan grabs his wrist, carelessly tossing the pop can to the ground nearby, and starts dragging him.

  "S-tan!!" He tugs weakly trying to retrieve his wrist from the other. _"Stanley!"_

  "I need to show you somethin'."


	6. Thick Trees with No Leaves

  Lord, he wants to go back inside the shack, crawl into a bed, and try to forget his brother ever existed. They've been walking for about a half hour now, and honestly Ford would not be surprised if Stan suddenly stopped and admitted he was lost.

  " _Stan,_ " Ford says, trying to think of some type of complaint, slowly noticing how shaky his brother's legs are. "Maybe.. you should sit down." The older twin mumbles, completely changing his mind on what he'd been going to say.

  A few more feet and Stan does so, sitting down against a pine nearby. "S..orry, forgot about how long it took to get here."

  Ford glances up to see where they are, and he slowly notices a ship. He feels his heart stop for a split second. He reads the name inscribed in the side. **Stan'o War**. "That can't .."

  "It's not.. It's a different one. One, I've been building by myself." Stan watches as his brother walks over and brushes his fingers across the wood, in disbelief. He's surprised by the emotion in his voice. "S..tanley."

  "Look, I-I know that.. that dream didn't.. really matter to you. You knew it couldn't.. set sail so to speak. Well. Not whenever you.. went off to college and.." He trails off, and Ford flinches as his twin's hand clasps his shoulder. "..I just wanted to know if you'd sail with me. Just once. Later.. it's not finished yet. You don't have t-"

  Stan jumps as his brother suddenly turns and pulls him forward by his suit, kissing him hard, their glasses giving a small _clink!_ from being practically smashed against their frames. The younger twin presses his hand lightly against the ship nearby to keep his balance as their lips brush. Stan pulls his lips away for a moment, giving a breathy chuckle. "I thought you were mad at me-"

  "I am, I'm pissed off, you've screwed up so much but.."

  The way he trails off, makes the other curious. "..But?"

  He flinches once more as he's pulled into another rough kiss and pulled down to the ground, Ford's form practically looming over him. He snorts. "Never pictured you on top, to be honest, _Sixer-_ "

  The moment's gone with the nickname. His mind traveling back to the golden, ominous triangle that repeatedly taunted him, and wanted nothing more than to take over this universe, and to use Ford for his own needs. The man swallows, and slowly the younger brother speaks up.

  "Ford..?? You oka-" He hisses out as a hand slaps him hard across the face.

  "Don't bring me out here again!! Do you hear me!?" Ford stands, dusting his clothes off and starting back towards the shack.

  "..I hear you.." Stan whispered, not even taking the effort to sit up as he watches his brother's figure begin to walk away in the distance. _How can I fix this.._


	7. Unnerving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're still going through the motions.

  The twins jump as they hear the screen door slam once more, glancing up to find their Grunkle Ford standing just a few inches from the front door. His expression is unreadable, only hardened. "..Grunkle Ford?" Dipper asks, slowly getting the courage. "Are you alright-"

  "I'm fine, Dipper." The man runs his hands through his ridiculous mess of hair, sighing through his nose. _Stanley, just give up already._ "Kids, if you need me, I'll be down in the basement." He starts to walk out of the room, surprised when he feels small hands tug at his coat sleeve. He glances back at the girl, whose name he's honestly forgotten by now. "Where's Grunkle Stan?" She mumbles, her eyes wide and full of concern.

  Ford hears himself let out an annoyed groan, and then feels a twinge of guilt. "He's fine, sweetheart, he'll be back in a little bit, I'm sure. It's not like Stan can't handle himself." He tugs his arm free, Mabel nearly losing her footing from the force of the man's pull.

  "Why won't you just forgive him?" She murmured under her breath, and the man stopped in the doorway for a split second, before heading into the elevator.

  Ford stared at the remains of his life's work. A portal. That would have unleashed a demon upon the world. He laughs softly, surprised as he feels tears grow in his eyes. What a waste of a lifetime.. He..he needed to apologize to Stan again. And then explain how his brother needed to move out. He reams at his eyes, slowly sitting down on the dirt floor and picking up a chunk of metal nearby, tracing his fingers over the cold object.

* * *

 

  Stan stares at the different cards nearby. The "sorry" cards and the "get well" cards. They all looked cheesy as hell. He can still feel the rain dripping off of his grayed hair. He'd tried everything.. they even talked. Well - those few minutes at 2 AM really hadn't been much.. But considering how Ford had been treating him recently, he was lucky to have even got that. His calloused hand picked up a card that was a soft red, flicking it open.

  _Ugh,_ there was a drawing of a teddy bear on the inside. Definitely not the card he wanted, or one that Ford would appreciate. What on Earth was he supposed to do?? Pulling his brother out of an awful dimension apparently wasn't good enough. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose unhappily. His brother wasn't one that could be pleased. He stepped into the next aisle, picking up a few bags of chips, and two boxes of chocolates. His eyes fell back to the alcohol in one of the fridges nearby. _Whiskey._ His father used to drink it all of the time, and honestly he could remember how sweet and sour it smelled.

  Stan was a drinker, if anything after Ford's disappearance, his alcohol consumption had increased by a tenfold. With the kids around this summer though, he'd been trying to stay away from it. But now, here he was, grabbing three bottles of the whiskey as well. He came to the counter and set the items down. The woman behind the counter giving him a rather odd look. But the old man didn't care. If Ford was going to be a sourpuss, he would at least _celebrate_ by himself for managing to save his twin.

* * *

  After a few hours, Ford had come back upstairs. The kids were still watching TV, and there was no sign of Stanley in sight. The air was humid, and the clash of lightning outside told him it was raining. He glared back at the screen door. _Damn it, Stan, where are you??_ The man headed into his bedroom and left the door unlocked, just incase the children would need him for anything. "..What do kids even eat.." Ford mumbled to himself, half giggling as he started drawing. Maybe he could make some.. type of invention to keep Stan far away from him.. That would work right? Nah.. He shook his head, surprised by a yawn that left him.

  Ford was the type of man that could go hours without any sleep. Perhaps that crying spell earlier had really drained the energy out of him. He glanced back down at his drawing, surprised to see a familiar triangle on the page. Eyes wide, he ripped the paper out of the book and tore it into little pieces, dumping it into the trash can nearby. He slowly became aware of how clean the room was.. had .. had Stan been cleaning in here? Since he left?? Thirty _years_ ago?? He sank down against his desk, blushing quietly, another yawn escaping him. Stan was always.. so.. _**loving.**_

His eyes ended up closing, and the man drifted off once more, face buried into the journal.

 


	8. We're Wrapped up Too Tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS A BUNCH OF SIN OKAY. NSFW. NSFW, 18+ YUP.  
> Took me a while because I got writer's block while in the midst of the sin.  
> Also Ford, you're awful, you won't honestly forgive your brother, but he's drunk and horny, so why the fuck not.

  Ford's eyes flickered open. He was.. on the bed.. how did he get to his bed? Something was touching him. It was soft and warm and _..wet?_ He glanced up, finding a pair of familiar brown eyes staring back at him, heavy lidded. His suit was wet and.. that _smell.. Whiskey._ "Stan.. Stan.." His fingers were in his hair, and he was leaned over him. "Stan, get off.." Ford mumbled slowly, raising his arm slightly, his face flushing over whenever Stanley moved his fingers between his expertly. _As if he'd never forgot how to hold his hands._

"Stanley, you're drunk." Ford muttered rather quietly. Though he could feel his body trembling with anticipation. Thirty years sealed away, and the only person he'd done anything sexual with before that, was on top of him. Ford felt himself ** _melt_** as his brother kissed him, ignoring the awful taste of alcohol on his lips. "S-Stan," Ford started once more as he was dragged into another kiss, _"G-get out of those wet clothes, you idiot.."_

Stan peeled back a bit from his older brother, who started to help unbuttoning the top half of his clothes. Ford's hands shook with excitement, _Lord,_ how long had it _BEEN?_ Stan's lips were suddenly on his ear, whispering. "You're shaking.. it's like the first night.. all over again." The older twin blushed harder at the words, shutting his eyes for a moment. "S-Stanley-"

  "Shush." Stan's, ever so warm hands tugged impatiently at Ford's sweater, whom raised his arms so he could pull it off. Stan blinked through heavy lidded eyes at his brother's muscular chest, suddenly feeling embarrassed about his own physique. Stan moved his hand up Ford's chest, before moving both of his hands over to run down his sides, feeling him tremble under his touch.

  "You're already hard~" He purred as if in disbelief that Ford was already aroused as he glanced at the bulge in his pants. He'd barely been touching him.. just kisses. "S-sorry-" he heard himself start to say, Stan's lips already on his again. A steady hand stroked over the crotch of his older twin as he started to nibble at his neck. Ford's mind was racing, but with no thoughts, nothing other than pure _want, need, **lust**_ **.**  

  Ford slipped out of his pants, now only in his boxers. He reached his hand down impatiently, prepared to stretch himself, shocked whenever Stanley moved his lips over the tent in his briefs. "S-Stan-" he moaned softly, hoping to God that the other twins were sleeping hard. "I know, I know.. you can't handle too much teasing.. sorry pointdexter.. it's been a while.." His voice was so husky, and rung in Ford's ears. "..Stretch yourself for me, dork."

  Ford squirmed out of his boxers and threw them carelessly to the floor, pressing a finger inside of himself. What a time to be alive.. he'd never pictured him and Stanley doing this again. As he added another finger, he heard Stan get up and cross the room, coming back with tube of lube. Stan pressed some of the liquid out and slowly moved it onto Ford's fingers, daring to press his own into his brother as well. The older twin's hips twitched, panting heavily as precum dripped down the side of his member. Stan squeezed more of the fluid out onto his hand before coating his own length.

  "You ready for me, four-eyes??" Stan asked as he watched his twin pull his fingers back, rubbing them off on the side of the bedsheets, snorting slightly. "S-Stan, you don't have the right to use that as an insult anymore whenever you have to wear gla- _aah_ -sses.." Ford hummed out as his brother pressed his cock into his entrance. It was so hot, and heavy, and already he felt like he was on cloud nine. 

  "G-eez, you really were ready.." he murmured, shifting slightly, Ford wasn't as tight as he remembered, or maybe he was just _that_ ready. He slowly thrusted a little deeper, basing his aim off of memory, and was delighted to hear his older twin's breath hitch. "Th-there!~" He thrusted, hitting the sweet spot once more, Ford giving a small groan in pleasure.

  Soon enough the bed was creaking as Stan's hips moved into the other male, getting faster as Ford begged louder and louder. His hands dug into Stan's back, his begs and moans honestly turning into desperate slurs as the pleasure heightened, climaxing. Stan felt the liquid hit the underside of his stomach, barely a few seconds late as he orgasmed, filling his brother. "S..sorry." He mumbled, pulling out and flopping beside his twin.

  "S-tan, I.. didn't even kn-know you still had that in you.." He waited a few moments as he tried to regain his breath, before glancing over. "Stanley??" His younger sibling was asleep already. He must've been exhausted. Ford shakily pulled the covers over both of their bodies, letting himself drift off.

  


	9. Disgusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford's really unhappy when he realizes he just used Stan.. I mean.. he's unhappy when he realizes Stanley used HIM. ((Ford will you fucking get your shit together))

  Ford wakes to the sunlight streaming in from the window, a warmth pressed against his side. It smells familiar. Feels familiar. It smells like a musk of the cigars Stanley smoked just before dawn, smells a little like the pine trees outside, and the soft scent of whiskey reaches his nose as well. Ford moves against his twin for a moment, until he realizes that he's.. in bed with him. Nude. Last night's events spiraling back through his mind.

  _Fuck. Are you **fucking** kidding me._

  "Stanley-" Ford's ready for the fight, ready to shove him out of the bedroom and to toss his clothes at him, tell him to go sleep on the couch like he demanded. If he was lucky, Stan had probably drank enough that he wouldn't remember last night's events. But as Ford starts to speak, his eyes fall to something peeking past under the covers. He lowers the sheets, staring at the familiar scar on Stanley's shoulder. A small wave of guilt flows through him, but he manages to talk once more.

  "Stanley, will you please wake up-" Ford presses a six-fingered hand to his twin's back, surprised by the heat radiating off of it. Stan's breathing is a little shallow, and he's shivering. _Fever._ He recalls the feel of his brother's wet clothes against him last night. "Stanley, how long were you out in the rain?" Still, his brother isn't replying. **"Stanley."** He says a little louder, watching brown eyes flicker open.

  A soft groan passes his younger twin's lips, pressing a hand to the side of his head at the awful headache he had, not to mention how _cold_ he felt. He went to cuddle up to Ford, wincing as the other pressed a hand against his face, smudging his glasses and holding him away. "Stan, put your boxers on. I'll go get a thermometer." He goes to crawl over his brother, surprised when his burly arms hook around his frame, making him flinch. "Ford..c'mon.. .j..just ten minutes.. I w..won't tell anybody.." The last part of the sentence makes him laugh, because honestly who was there to tell? The kids?? They wouldn't even know what to think of-he pauses, recalling the nights him and Stan spent in each other's arms, and how he always made his younger twin promise not to tell anyone. Specifically their parents of course.

  "..Stanley, I have to go get a thermometer," he mumbles, with more anger in his tone this time, peeling the other's hands off of his body and getting off the bed. He tugs his pants on first and then his sweater. The anger seemed to be enough to let Stanley lay there now, his breaths still uneven as he stared at the ceiling. "I w..was worried about you." Stan says after a moment, and Ford pauses, before he starts out of the bedroom, slamming the door.

  He answered his brother sarcastically under his breath, now that he couldn't hear him. _"Of course you were, Stanley."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ford why are you such an asshole my god.


	10. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan's fever makes him a little rambly and Ford shows some affection again, despite the fact he keeps reminding himself he's kicking Stanley out and does not need him at all ((sure Sixer, sure.))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, my Stancest/sin blog on Tumblr is evilatrocitiesss.tumblr.com, my personal is just evilatrocities.tumblr.com  
> And here have an AMV I spent three and a half hours on tonight: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kswcoY8sfss  
> I might finish it if I feel up to it.

  101.

  "Stanley, you're burning up."

  The younger twin gave a mix of a grunt and a groan in reply. He'd pulled the blankets tightly around himself, and looked like a clam almost. Or some other creature that curled inside its shell. Ford reached over, finding his six fingers combing through the grayed locks. "..Stan, do you want some more blankets..??" He nods, and that reaction calms Ford more than it should have.

  Good lord, it was like they were ten again. Stanley had gotten an awful fever that had lasted about three days. He'd been immobile in their bedroom upstairs, and as much as Stanford begged his mother, she was too busy with her own line of 'work', if you could call it that. So Ford had been the one to take care of Stan. Getting him extra pillows, extra blankets, heating up chicken noodle soup, staying by his side even when he drifted off.

  Ford returned with the blankets and draped them gently over the man. He sank down on the floor beside him, searching under the covers until he found Stanley's hand. "..You shouldn't stay out in the rain like that, you idiot." He said after a moment, he knew Stan was at least somewhat conscious, which meant he was somewhat listening, and he didn't want the other to think he was being affectionate for any other reason other than the fact he was sick.

  "..I walked home and back.. and I tried.. to get you something at the store but.. there was nothing you would've liked.." Stan mumbled slowly, smiling into the pillow. "..Last night was wonderful." And he says it, purely because he knows with how ill he is at the moment, his brother cannot be rude and shove his hand away, or threaten to smack or punch him.

  "..It was okay." Ford said after a moment, letting the room settle in silence once more, other than Stanley's ragged breaths. Stan snorts softly, slowly grasping back onto Ford's hand. "I really missed you, Ford.. you make everything okay.. I kept having nightmares you'd come home and hate me.."

  "I don't hate you." He meant to say the other, but it was too late. He glared at the wall nearby, before flinching as he felt his twin's tongue brush along his finger. "S-tanley!" He scolded, eyes narrowed, watching in a mix of disbelief and bliss as his brother started to suck onto his fingers.

  It took him a few moments before he managed to yank his arm free, stumbling up, wiping the saliva on the side of his pants. "Jesus, Stanley.. I'm going to go heat you up some chicken noodle soup."

  "That's a lunch food, not a breakfast one."

  "Well for the idiots who stand out in the rain and get sick - it's breakfast for them." Ford mumbled, shutting the bedroom door with a soft click. He wondered if Stanley had gotten sick since he'd been shoved in the portal.. had there been anyone there to comfort him? To rub his back where it ached most, to give him tissues, and kisses and -  _I am not doing this again, no. Stanley is being kicked out after the kids leave, no more Mystery Shack, just me in my house, alone, and studying, the way I like it._ He opened the cupboard and pulled out the can of soup, sighing and adjusting his glasses before looking for the can opener. 


	11. We're so Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford's confused by his emotions and ends up dreaming about his and Stanley's first kiss.

  The next few days passed by slowly, seeming to drag on. Stanley had gotten better by the end of the night, and due to this, Ford kicked him out of his room first thing. Stan didn't even throw a punch or insult him once out in the hallway, which was kind of shocking. Ford set to work on clearing a few things from the basement and trying to think of a new experiment, or something that he might've missed when studying Gravity Falls.

  The only thing that came to mind was the boat Stan had been working on in the woods. He sighed and combed fingers through his gray locks, what was it with him lately?? Stanley seemed to be the only thing on his mind..

* * *

 

  Fifteen year old Stan is staring at his hands. He has been all day. They got the day off of school because - Stan called in and said they were both sick. Impersonating his father's voice was fun, not only because did he sound like an idiot, it also made his older twin laugh.

  And that laugh.

  Oh that laugh sent shivers through his spine.

  He'd do anything to hear that laugh, see that smile.

  Ford's face was almost always hard, and this was because he was almost always focusing, studying all he could. Somedays it seemed like all Ford wanted to do was work. To Stan however that was wrong.. Ford was almost 16 - well they both were almost 16 now - and Ford was already focusing on all the big, terrifying things ahead. He needed a break. Though at the moment, Ford wasn't relaxed, or even managing to focus on his studying because Stanley kept staring at his damn hands.

  Finally he spoke up. "What Stanley??"

  "Huh?" Stan repeated softly, pulled out of his deep thoughts.

  "What do you want?" His tone comes out a little more harsher than he means for it to.

  Stan licks his dry lips. _I wanna kiss you. I wanna hold your hands. I wanna hold you against me. **Ford,** I want to-_

  "You know Carla McCorkle?" Stan says suddenly, and that makes Ford's insides twist. She was a sweet girl, not very smart, and her looks were an okay state - at least in his mind. Not that Ford would ever find another woman attractive, but he _knows_ that Stan thinks she's attractive, he's seen the way he's looked at her from time to time when they're in homeroom. He hopes they never become a thing.

  "..Yeah." Ford says after a moment, picking his pencil back up and gnawing on the eraser. Stan knew that meant the other was getting a little upset. Nevertheless, he continued. "Well - I've been thinking about asking her out-" **_Fucking Christ,_** "but I don't want it to be all awkward whenever I go to drop her off because I don't have any kissing experience."

  Ford sat the pencil down before he ended up breaking the damn thing is in hand. "So what are you wanting me to do about it??" The older twin asked, turning more to face his brother, arching his brows.

  "..I want you to teach me how to kiss." The excuse was a lie, but what he wanted?? True to the core. He felt his cheeks turn a bright red, as he stared at Ford, waiting to see his twin's reaction.

  Stanford is almost frozen in place, possibly time as well, as he stares at Stanley. He feels like the world has tilted, like gravity is suddenly five times stronger. His six-fingered hands had settled on his knees and at this new information, his fingers twitched, grasping the material of his pants tightly. He feels his face burn hard, and when Stan grins at him, he knows he's blushing like an idiot.

  "..Stan, I don't - have any experience either-"

  "Then we'll teach each other." Stan mutters, standing and crossing the distance between them. Ford's heart's in his throat, he's so overcome with emotion, that he doesn't even register that Stan's carelessly thrown his book and paper off the bed as he sits down in front of him, and moves one of his hands over his older twin's.

  "Stanley.." he utters ever so softly. Just for tonight. They'd kiss. Just for tonight.


	12. Chapter 12

  Ford wakes slowly at his desk to feel hands on him. Running along his sides, lips brushing against his neck, and - he gives a light groan as his younger twin scoops him into his arms. "Stan..ley.. Stanley, what are you doing in my room?? I told you not to come in here-"

  "You said that we couldn't share your bed," Stan corrects, kissing Ford's forehead, and then his cheek. "You were mumbling my name in your sleep."

  Ford's cheeks flush softly behind the gleam of his glasses, as he recalls the dream about their first kiss. "I - I was?" He plays innocent, flinching as he feels Stan's hand move down to his crotch.

  _"Stanley."_ It's a warning.

  "Ford, please, stop acting so pissed off at me.. I know I screwed things up, I know I did, but I never _meant_ to. I said that, I just - I want you back, I want things to go back to the way they were-"

  "Before you ruined my life-"

  "Exactly!!"

  He pauses and then squirms in Stan's arms. "Stanley, put me down-"

  "No."

  "Stanley!!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May I just say that a certain user ((hint, fucking hint)) posted a rather odd comment a few hours ago on this fanfiction and I don't know if it's honestly insulting my writing style, or if it's because I'm a human being, but all I have to say is: If you don't like someone's writing, don't read it.  
> And secondly: don't assume a writer is female. It's really rude, so honestly that whole comment made me upset to wake up to.

  Ford's eyes flicker open slowly. He wishes he could be mad. He really did. But Stanley had a point. His grudge just.. seemed like it was for nothing. Maybe it was time Ford matured a little. It's funny, he never imagined telling himself those words, yet here he was.

  He flinched at Stanley's lips on his back and glanced over at his younger twin. "I thought you were asleep?" Stanley smiles at him softly. "Well I was for a little while. You were mumbling again."

  "I wasn't saying your name though," Ford muttered defensively as his twin looms over him before planting a soft kiss against his forehead, his burly arms wrapping around him. "I can't remember the last time I held you like this."

  "I can't believe you dragged me into bed just for all this-"

  "Tenderness? Affection?? Love and conce-" He grunts as Ford places his hand over his mouth and for a moment he grins before licking at his palm, cackling as his twin pulls his hand away and starts to bicker.

  "Stanley, that is point blank f-ucking disgusting! I can't believe you would-well actually I _can_ believe, but it's still-"

  Stan cuts his brother off with a deep kiss and pull his warm body further against his. 

  There's an unstable silence after Stan pulls away, and he knows his twin is going to say something he won't like.

  _"..How are we going to keep this from Mabel and Dipper..??"_


	14. Chapter 14

  Breakfast is awkward. There's a tension in the room, a warm, awkward tension. Because - they need to make sure they don't slip up. Need to make sure they don't - accidentally kiss or, try to hold each other's hands. Need to make sure they don't look at each other too long and honestly it's - almost annoying that this is what it's come down to now. The only main problem being Ford and his paranoid thoughts, and the kids.

  Ford almost wished that they were home already. He spent all this time trying to figure out exactly how to - react to Stanley, to forgive him, to let all the bad wash away. Though he had to admit he still had some boundaries.. But now there were kids here. Kids they needed to be careful around. Cautious around.

  But Stan seemed like his normal self whenever Ford glanced up from his thoughts. The kids were eating cereal rather loudly, Mabel pausing to make some type of joke which resulted in Dipper laughing softly and nearly choking on his food. Ford glanced down at his plate of pancakes once more. Stanley's pancakes.. he felt his face flush. Goddamn it, he was getting mushy over pancakes, Stan hadn't even touched him since they'd left the bedroom.

  "Grunkle Ford?" He was popped out of his daze, glancing back at his great nephew. "Yes, Dipper?"

  "Do you have an obsession with pancakes or something?"

  The question made him laugh, and he shook his head softly, adjusting his glasses. "No, Dipper, I don't."

  "Then why eat Stan's crummy pancakes every morning??" The boy cocked his head to the side curiously.

  He started to explain himself, only for Stan's booming voice to interrupt him. "Well kiddo, when someone doesn't get someone else's food for thirty years, they crave it every morning." Ford rolled his eyes heavily, hearing the girl's giggle from across the room and he smiled back at her. Maybe he was wrong.. these kids didn't seem so bad. They obviously got distracted easy, and Dipper seemed to have such a heavy interest in the supernatural, surely he and Stan could have some time to themselves.

  His smile softened, then faded as he saw a look of fear cross the children's faces.

  "What's wrong-" Ford turned just as a plate shattered to the floor, watching his twin fall. "Stanley!"


	15. Chapter 15

  ** _"You piece of fucking shit."_** Oh boy, that's a way to wake up. Stan's eyes start to focus and he recognizes his twin standing beside the bed and he recognizes an awful pattern on the bed sheets. Oh lord. "Ford, you know I hate hospitals-" he stops, glancing around. "Where are the kids?"

  "You're concerned about the damn kids right now!?" The older twin rakes his hands stressfully through his gray locks, whining under his breath. Stan lets his eyes land back on his brother and he blinks, "..I only fainted, Ford, honestly no reason for you to-"

  "Yeah, you fainted! And coughed up a shit load of blood! Ah jesus, Stan, why, _WHY?!_ You could have done anything to take out your anger on me, cursed me out, punched walls, Hell, you surely mocked my name - but - but this?" He grabs Stan by the arms.

  "Woah, woah, _h-hey,_ what are you rambling on about?" His brown eyes fall to the six-fingered hands gripping him tightly. "Calm down, Ford, don't give yourself a heart attack-"

  _"I would be so happy to have one of those right now!"_ He declares, letting go of Stan and shoving his hands in his coat pockets, pacing a little. Stan watches him for a few minutes, wondering, and wondering, feeling as if he tries to ask once more he'll be ignored again. Finally, his twin slumps down into a chair beside the hospital bed.

  "..You have lung cancer.. and-and most of it's from your smoking and all the other shitty drugs you did with that idiot Rick while I was gone." Ford mumbles into his palm and Stan flinches slightly at the mention of the name rather than the news.

  "How'd you know about-"

  "I met him while I was in the other dimension. I know you didn't _do_ anything with him. But-" he rakes a hand through his hair and it stands up even further than usual, "but taking all that shit - doing that to your body?? _I - I just got you back..!"_

  It's odd to hear his own words slip out of his twin's mouth. He watches Ford, watches him bounce his leg, pull at his hair, his coat, watches him fret because he thinks Stanley is leaving him. But Stan already knows that nothing could take him from his brother now.

  "Pointdexter," the old man chimes, and watches tearful brown eyes glance back to him. "I'm not goin' anywhere.. I'll be fine."

  Ford scoffs at the reply and then chuckles, reaming at his eyes. _"Fucking Christ._ Stanley, do you ever worry about yourself?" He stands and approaches the other, kissing his forehead, and leaning his chin against his head.

  _"No."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick as in Rick Sanchez because who doesn't enjoy crossovers.


End file.
